Lesser Demons: Like A Man Possessed
by NotUrSquishy
Summary: It is worth being loved though even if it means he stalks the day carving his way from a path fraught with instinct and primal urge. He tosses salt and hangs up religion without ceremony. Or The one where L and Light have Multiple Personality Disorder (and are gone on each other) Big time.


**I almost haven't the energy for warnings but, violence, thoughts of violence, strawberry jam, workplace war, spry young mouthy lab workers**

 **This is the events of, Face Like An Angel from L & Beyond's point of view. you don't need FLAA to understand this in fact as I type this note there are about 2,000 words in a doc for an unfinished draft of FLAA it is set to be better and more humorous then even LAMP 12/3/15 but alas, finals**

 **Finally Disclaimer I don't own Death Note. Any further questions about warnings please pm me of visit my A03 account for the full tag list.**

Lesser **Demon Part One:**

Like A Man **Possessed**

* * *

 **The possession of anything begins in the mind.-Bruce Lee**

* * *

He doesn't like the young man they bring in.

He doesn't hate him either, he abhors him.

This is his space !

L watches quietly seething as the new boy nods at a clearly charmed receptionist who twirls her blond hair around her finger.

His _space_!

His **alone!**

He vehemently thinks, knows.

Another round of laughter from the happy couple it's hard to figure who's courtious smile is more false between two so well matched contenders.

The young man waves her off and sets his suitcase down.

He surveys a few boxes piled by a door L had noticed earlier.

L had simply thought the boxes to be more packages of lab equipment but, now he realized they weren't just any boxes.

Not just any lab equipment.

The boxes contained this foreign invader's items !

This, this, parasite, this, usurper with his doleful eyes, light influxed smile and solar powered flower desk ornament must be expunged! Those dollar store flower things are just _so cheerful_ and **Ugh swaying in their solar rays** , supplies Beyond ever helpful.

L has a feeling he's only humoring him, it's usually the other way around.

* * *

Just what are you up to now Light?

L thinks eyes wide as the boy takes a doughnut from the box in the break room and not just any doughnut, one the of the jelly filled ones. (His favorite)

Yagami is a beacon of tainted sunlight shining into his dim space so achingly bright it hurts.

L won't be anyone's shadow.

Light is to be eliminated at all cost.

Then he has the nerve to send L an imperial wave when he catches him looking, don't mind me, you may proceed, carry on and winks on his way out.

He feigns disinterest because he's been meaning to cut down on the sweets anyway

Later that day not one but two doughnuts sit pristinely on his desk in all their powdered jelly glory.

 _Childish._ L thinks.

He's not surprised.

L does his best not to be despite himself amused.

* * *

Light Yagami is not a good man.

That day he walks into the lab his grin is almost cutting, he borders on curt scraping the line at polite and purrs every word.

He sits on his office chair like a throne a king christening them with his presence.

No, not a king- a God among men.

He takes sacrilege in his office and makes the other assistants come to worship in his temple.

Predator L thinks as Lights hands linger on his arm a moment far too long as they examine a blueprint.

He leaves with some vague excuse about the pipettes and test tubes.

The boy's eyes follow him around the room, in a startling reversal of roles.

Usually it's L doing the examining and staring with dark unyielding eyes.

That night his smile isn't nice either, its jagged edges and broken glass.

The power for the entire block is mysteriously out which is fine, because he's always much preferred the dark anyway. Crimson eyes dilate and laugh mocking him in the mirror.

* * *

L wakes up in an alley wet and sticky.

He lifts his hands to his face, a rush of panic surges through him.

There is blood on his hands and oozing down his fingers in a sloppy mess.

His shirt is drenched and positively dripping with it. White cotton stained an ugly shade plastered to his skin . He feels around for his phone and shakily stands.

His movement knocks something out of his lap and a knife clatters to the ground.

The knife is painted as deep a red as his hands and probably his shirt very little silver gleams and it tinks against a glass jar.

A jam jar.

Slowly he swallows and brings his fingers to his lips and tastes, strawberry.

* * *

L scarcely has time to shower and no amount of scrubbing can rid his skin of the overpowering stench of strawberry.

No one else has yet to comment but to L the scent is permeating the air with haunting intent. He knows he won't be able to eat the chocolate covered versions of the fruits for ages.

The woman in the breakroom is eating a PB&J , L feels sick to his stomach with it.

Unable to handle this anymore he escapes to the lap and its ventilated chill.

Even there no respite is given.

Light lingers in the corner a daunting streak of sunshine L just doesn't have the time for.

His expression is stormy enough to brush the boy off with ease.

An accident, a mistake.

When it happens he is making an incision for the billionth time.

Strawberry assaults his senses, the cool lab feels stifling his headache intensifies, bile threatens low in his throat.

The scalpel slips easily into the pale flesh of his hand and he only blinks at it dumbly.

Lights kneeling in front of him murmuring in soothing tones, that from him aren't false.

L can tell by the sharp tinge of anger and so much more in his voice that L has never heard before and the pinched expression on his face.

 _It's fine_ L reminds himself.

Nothing to worry about, just me down here.

 _I'm perfectly fine._

" Your fine, " remarks Light softly an echo of L's silent statement.

"Thank you, I've heard insomnia's in style"

The jokes so good it takes him a bit to realize he's laughing hysterically

Yes _ **, He's**_ Fine.

Light blinks then make a dry hoarse sound and looks tempted to roll his eyes.

When he takes L's hands and moves him to the table..

L realizes it's not anger on his face, it's fear.

Fear of what? Is the million dollar question.

* * *

(From then on)

L is a drowning man. He reaches for any sign of Lights..other self. of Light.

Their mouths meet in an unsteady mesh it was a clash of teeth and tongue, but he could care less about that his entire focus was on the delectable man in front of him.

The curious tilt of his cat-like eyes, how his lips pressed open in a soft gasp when he tugged him in for another rough kiss.

He feels it when he desperately grasps at him with strong arms and noticed it as steady hands trailed downwards.

This is what he thinks about in the hollow hours of the, morning.

For all Lights perceived charm there's occasionally a look about him that L Lawliet doesn't trust.

A look that promises harm and something more.

In retrospect, it's the something more that is utterly discerning.

He's treading water in the deep end of some black sea salt a taste rising in his mouth breathing in choked off breaths.

Such is the presence of Yagami.

That this isn't light it is darkness.

It is to be the death of him.

* * *

Beyond, he isn't sinking into depths unknown he's never been one to flounder about of just keep swimming.

He's tenacious a go getter a must be do-er

He's a burning man.

He reaches not for water but for more kerosene. Light is fire and he isn't bathing in him, he is dousing himself.

Every inch of him is ignited come to life in one slight touch

Beyond can smell the flesh as it melts.

He tastes the ash on his tongue heavy and grainy and see the soot black and stark against his pale skin.

The sheets snake around his body cageing as he twists around in bed soaked in sweat.

The heat is exponential and only growing in power.

In the nightmarish hours before dawn he screams.

He stalks over to the window finally free of the bed. He opens the thing and lets the cool breeze drift in only serving to electrify him further. He want's to tear Yagami apart for doing this to him, to them.

Should he rend him slowly with careful precision unwinding all those layers to reach Lights core and tenaciously hold on to each part of him.

Forcing the man to feel, to feel what?

Pain?

Hurt?

Beyond growls. His eyes flash he tears around the room pacing the length of the small space a confined creature hands clenching and unclenching into fists.

He paces thoughts a whirl a scrambled mess of yarn at which he keeps, tug-tug tugging till it all unravels.

If Light wants a temple he'll make him one.

He thinks viciously.

A throne?

No problem.

A mantle?

Beyond will skin him one and lay it out daintily on his desk tied up in a nice bow.

He wants to scare him, shock him, horrify him, just to hear his wonderful screams.

How beautiful would he be with that pert mouth open in surprise lips gasping for air?

With his auburn hair framing a pale face and perfect, oh so perfect as Beyond tears him apart bit by bit piece by piece.

He will shed Light on this situation, no rules need to be explained he knows what Yagami had yet too.

If this is a game, he plays to win.

Light's eyes tell him this is a game.

One he can, could play again and again.

Beyond will rip off arm and limb to handle Light but what he's really interested in, is not-light at all.

* * *

The other Light is named Kira a veiled allotment to Japanese death gods and perceived justice.

Beyond knows this because L knows this, because L spends a copious amount of time tracking the man.

Waiting patiently for Light to slip up once, no twice before. For L is meticulous like that and at his core a man of science.

L will take the time to collect data and to test a method more than once before calling it a theory.

He knows that L finds it ultimately fitting that Kira also means sparkle in Korean.

Beyond is not surprised.

They always had a thing for double edged swords.

* * *

It's immediately quite clear that Light wants to be the god of this new world.

Other than the name and presence he brings into his space with his too blinding smile, always so ready to lend a hand , just oh so helpful all the damn time.

There is something off about Light.

On that, both he and L can agree.

When he catches sight of Light for the first time. (When L catches sight) He's amused by the stir the boys causing to L's fragile little lab existence.

 **Like us.**

Beyond thinks.

Insufferable L almost thinks, but then he has to put up with Beyond so it's an unfair assessment and would be giving Yagami too much credit.

Sharing headspace with a monster raises the bar L comments.

Beyond pauses and tilts his head with a wicked smile.

 **What does that make you lawli?**

No answer.

 **Wuss.**

Beyond pouts and examines his surroundings it's not so often he goes to the lab.

The young man is over there **scratch-scratch-scratching** away in that black notebook of his. Beyond is tempted to walk over and rank that pen out of his hands and snap it in half or stab him. He lets himself fantasize at the poignancy of inky blackness covering that immaculate suit in large splotches with sweet thickening blood spilling out unto that starch white dress shirt with every stab.

It's a pleasant thought and a pleased smile works its way to his face all harsh corners and upward tugs of the lip over pearly teeth.

The scratching stops.

Light looks up and answers his grin in kind.

 **Hello** , **Kira sweethear** t

* * *

L comes to looking at Light, no he's looking at the Not-Light.

The one who prowls uncomfortably closer at any given chance.

Who makes thin excuses to stand near him and reach, to touch.

L fight down shivers that threaten to wrack his body.

He mustn't show unease to this creature.

 **If he's a creature then what am I**? Beyond says tauntingly in the back of his mind.

 _A menace_. L snaps back furiously.

 **Really darling is that the best you've got?**

 _Shut up. Shutup shutup_ **.** L thinks wildly.

Beyond is apparently undeterred.

 **Going to let pretty boy fight your battles for you?**

 _Just shut up!_

The Not- Light , **Kira** Beyond readily supplies, looks up and smiles at him beautifully.

In its way, this mockery is somehow more terrifying than any conjured horror.

L starts pulling in great gobs of air with each harsh pants and shaking his head all folded up in his chair, twisted up tight in a gangly limbed bow.

Wrapped up nice and tight like a present.

He has a fleeting image of Light coming downstairs to unwrap him Christmas morning.

It's equal parts surreal and disturbing thanks to the not so innocent cast.

L won't say he isn't a fool because he is probably the greatest fool being a man who know better and does so anyway.

(There is a reason he has one of those BJ's memberships and buys Jam in bulk.)

Light in his Kitchen sipping hot cocoa doesn't sound so bad.

He is such a fool.

He's sugar and spice everything terribly nice.

L can scarcely take it any more and Beyond is past the point of knowing restraint.

This creature who masquerades as Light with his sinister looks and the iridescent teenager stuck in a man's body all righteous anger and indigenous fueled with the occasional playful look and apple obsession.

It's a loaded package.

For if L wants then Beyond wants.

They both want.

Now it's just down to who gets there first.

* * *

Beyond has had enough of L's bullshit he is chafing with need.

They both are driven by it equally fueled with nights spent imagining the slide of skin on skin, harsh keens and deeper more hidden appreciation.

They don't desire someone who understands them , who gets them.

Where would be the fun in that?

So neither are actively sought.

Light has been casting sly looks all day and making any excuse to bend over.

He must have dropped his pen what fifty times?

Damn it to hell if they don't dream of that Light, of a vision in golden hair with a near halo and black feathered wings with red eyes bright enough to match their own.

Light doesn't appear surprised when Beyond finally rounds on him in a deserted copy room corning the young man in between stacks of printer paper blocking the exit.

"I'm not going to choose" Light says and his voice isn't raised but, firm as a spoken command in even tones.

His expression even if fierce, unyielding.

"I want both, all, us". If you think you can handle it is the silent dare.

There is no hesitance they both accept.

Beyond for his part could care less about the scruples involved the myriad of other complexities that might arise. L however, well Beyond knows he will thank him later and wastes no time making the decision.

Lips meet in a harsh wet mess and it's nothing if not violent just the way they didn't plan.

There is no further discussion no great wooing to take place.

L finds flowers tacky and while briefly beautiful they wilt oh so fast and would be a harshly improper statement of his intentions at best. Would imply that this is something fleeting, more or less than whatever it is.

Between another break for air Lights merely panting harshly only having to brush some hair strands back into place before resuming his attack.

Light sinks hands into the mess of L's hair and harshly yanks them apart licking his bruised lips.

"About time".

He's smirking and smug doesn't even begin to describe him.

L lets the condescendence slide in favor of kissing that smug right off his face.

He yanks Lights tie askew just to prove a point because why the hell not?

The tables have turned.

Then he's slipping out the door smiling.

Lights looking beautiful and not nearly wrecked enough though somewhat startled by this turn of events and he's waving L away.

 _Cheeky bastard._

The temptation to stay is filtered poison equal parts the promised sweetness and the indication of the most depraved bitterness.

Light carries in him the withheld potential of things to come just waiting to be brought to life.

* * *

In his waking hours, L will claim he is neither burned out by flame nor sunken deeply by water.

Beyond haunts the corner of his eye and L tilts his head slowly ceding his mind.

The shadows don't want him for they know he owns them.

It is worth being loved though even if it means he stalks the day carving his way from a path fraught with instinct and primal urge.

He tosses salt and hangs up religion without ceremony.

Like a man **possessed.**


End file.
